Easier Said
by FrostShadowStar
Summary: "I wouldn't call your bet stupid..." "Oh yeah?" Matthews shot him a look that was half glare, half resignation. "What would you call getting Captain Grif to give me an honest to god compliment within the next twenty four hours?" Bitters couldn't help wincing slightly at his friend's phrasing. "...hopeless."


"-And when I win, you have to not only admit how lazy your Captain is, but you have to tell _my _Captain how awesome and cool he is_ to his face_."

Matthews' face darkened as he actually stood up to lean over the still sitting Palamo. "Fine." He practically snarled, 'But when _I_ win, you have to tell _your_ Captain that you'll be taking relationship advice from mine since he gets more action in a week than yours has in his entire _life_."

Palomo stared slack-jawed up at Matthews, reply clearly lost at the normally reserved and polite private's ruthless terms. To be fair, the only one _not_ staring at Matthews was Bitters, who was taking advantage of his friend's glare fest at the other lieutenant to swipe his drink and downing it. If _Matthews_ was at the point of picking fights, then any more alcohol in his system would probably kill him.

"I-you-_Fine_!" Palomo sputtered out. "Not that it matters, cuz the chances of you winning are slim to none!"

Matthews' expression somehow managed to darken even more. "We'll see about that."

And with that, Matthews spun on his heel and left the mess hall, not even bothering to wait for a response from Palamo.

Bitters sighed. He should have known better than letting Palamo sit anywhere near them. Green Team's lieutenant had a habit of annoying just about everyone around him. It really had been too much to hope that Matthews would somehow be immune to him.

"We win, I get your dessert rations for a month."

"Wha-?"

Not bothering to wait for a full reply, Bitters also got up and left. Like a true maverick.

By the time he caught up to Matthews in their shared room, his friend was already passed out in his bed.

The responsible thing would be to wake him up and make sure that Matthews was actually aware of what exactly he'd gotten himself entangled in this time and figure out some way of fixing or undoing it. But, Bitters was not in a responsible mood tonight nor did he want to hear Palomo bragging over a 'easy win' so soon.

Deciding to just let Matthews wake him up for training in the morning and dealing with it then, Bitters headed for his own bed.

With as early a riser Matthews was, he figured they'd have enough time to figure something out.

**...**

Matthews did not wake him up.

In fact, for the first time that he could remember, Bitters got up first.

At least, that's what he thought until he took a closer look at Matthews and realized the blonde was awake and just staring at the ceiling.

"...Kyle?"

"Mm?"

"...You doing okay?"

"Depends. Did I really get into a shouting match with Palamo that ended in a stupid bet or was that just a nightmare from too much alcohol?"

"No, that bout sums it up."

Matthews groaned as he covered his face.

"...you could take it back?"

Matthews shot him a dirty look. "And listen to Palamo go on about how great his Captain is and that he feels sooooo bad mine can never measure up?" He snorted. "I'd rather go one on one with Locus than that."

Bitters gave a small grunt of agreement. Compared to sitting through a three hour spiel from Palamo, anything seemed like a cakewalk.

"So. Any idea on what you're going to do next?"

"Maybe stay here. Never leave the room. Can't lose a bet if the other party never sees you again."

Bitters gave his friend a long look.

"That's it? _That's_ your plan?"

Matthews shrugged.

"Christ Kyle! You can't be hung-over enough to think that'd actually work?"

"What else am I supposed to do?!" Matthews wailed "I made a stupid bet because Palamo wouldn't shut the fuck up and drunk me forgot that Captain Grif would rather run laps than give me an actual compliment! I'm not you!"

"He doesn't exactly compliment me either Kyle."

"But he made you his lieutenant! That might as well _be_ a compliment!"

Bitters snorted. "He's also kind of nuts. I can walk right out of training and he'd give me a thumbs up or something."

"Exactly! He _likes_ you and nothing I do is right! Palamo is _never_ going to let me live this stupid bet down."

"I wouldn't call your bet stupid..."

"Oh yeah? And what _would_ you call getting Captain Grif to give me an honest to god compliment within twenty four hours?"

"...hopeless."

Matthews made a strangled angry sound before turning to face the wall.

Normally that would be the end of the conversation as Bitters waited for his friend to get over himself and bounce back to being his usual annoying, optimistic self but something Matthews had said wouldn't leave him alone.

_'I'm not you'_

Which, yeah. Was obvious. Matthews was bit of a kissass to Grif. Bitters couldn't care less what their Captain thought of him. Matthews was physically incapable of not following an order while Bitters had yet to follow one without dragging his feet first.

But, they weren't complete opposites.

They both enjoyed the less than strenuous training Gold Team offered. Matthews could be amazingly (and even terrifyingly) protective of his food and even Bitters had some small fraction of respect towards Grif.

The longer Bitters mulled over these facts, the less The Idea seemed absurd. Heck, if they could pull this off, the amount of obnoxious rubbing in Palamo's face it'd provide was almost (almost) worth more than the other lieutenant's desserts and hurt pride.

"Hey Kyle."

"Mrrgh."

"I know how you can win that bet."

A small squeak on Matthews' bed was the only indication Bitters had his friend was listening.

"You _can_ be me."

Silence, then "The fuck is that supposed to mean Antoine?!"

Bitters released a long suffering sigh. "And to think, everyone thinks _you're_ the smart one. Simple. We trade armor for the day."

"...that couldn't possibly work...could it?"

Bitters shrugged. "I don't see why not. It's not like Grif's ever seen us out of armor before and I _think_ we know one another well enough to impersonate each other for at _least_ a day."

Matthews frowned. "...what about talking? I'm pretty sure this whole thing would be over once one of us opens our mouths."

"Easy. You don't talk, I'll tell everyone you've got a cold or something and I" Bitters shot Matthews a smug grin as he lowered his voice into a rough approximation of his friend's voice. "Imitate you."

While not perfect, it was a good enough imitation to pass if you'd only heard Matthews once or twice in passing or if you didn't care enough to investigate further. Instead of being impressed by this rather amazing secret ability of Bitters', Matthews looked furious.

"You told me that wasn't you!"

Oh. Right. He _had_ used that skill before to 'volunteer' Matthews for extra watches and other boring tasks. Whoops.

"Eh. You would have done that stuff anyway."

"Well yeah, but only if was _actually me volunteering in the first place_ and not _my so called friend _setting me up for MORE work!"

Bitters held his hands up in a placating gesture.

"And that was wrong of me and I feel just _horrible_ about that." Aside from a disbelieving snort, Matthews didn't interrupt him. Bitters chose to take that as a good sign. "Now, we could either spend the next week arguing over it _or_ put my impressive impersonation skills to good use and go with the plan most likely to end with you rubbing in Palamo's face how much better our Captain is than his."

Matthews' pissed off expression shifted towards a more thoughtful one. Good. He was wavering. Time to pull in the ultimate trump card.

"Think about it Kyle. Compliments from Captain Grif. All. Day."

And with that, the last of his friend's resolve crumbled.

"Fine. But if we're going to pull this off, we have to be at the top of our game. No slacking, Bitters." Matthews couldn't help the smug glee that crept into his voice "As everyone knows, _I_ don't slack off."

Maybe. Just maybe, they could win this.

**...**

Grif raised an eyebrow as he watched the last two members of his squad come into training nearly an hour late. Which, wasn't much of a surprise in Bitters' case. The lieutenant was a maverick after all. _Matthews_ being late on the other hand was much more shocking. Usually the kissass in training was the first one here, setting things up so Grif wouldn't have to.

Until today apparently.

"About time you two showed up. I'm actually a little disappointed in you Matthews. Expected more from you."

Instead of blubbering apologies right then and there like normal, the kid just stared. To be fair, _both_ kids were staring at him, but coming from Bitters, that wasn't much of a surprise. His lieutenant wasn't exactly the chatty type in the mornings. But Matthews...

Suddenly, Bitters elbowed Matthews in the side causing him to cough a little.

"Sorry Sir. We uh had a late night drinking. Well I did, Bitters wasn't feeling well so he retired early and I uuuuh...overslept? But once I realized how late it was, I rushed both of us out here because I'd hate to ever disappoint you Sir!"

Grif glanced over at Bitters for confirmation only to find his lieutenant staring up at the sky, clearly wishing to be anywhere but next to Matthews. Which, Grif could absolutely agree with.

"Aside from the fact that you apparently drink, fine. I'll forgive your lateness this one time if you promise to never repeat this grave transgression again."

"Oh of course Sir! Consider this an important lesson learned!"

Cripes. The kid actually saluted at that. Even Bitters thought it was overkill judging by the embarrassed flinch of his shoulders. Normally Bitters had his reactions hidden to a T.

"Whatever Matthews. Bitters, I want you to direct drills while I observe from ov-"

"Aaactually Sir." Matthews interrupted. _**Actually interrupted**_. The hell? "Bitters can't talk today. His throat's super sore from coughing all night."

Grif stared at the two of them. Between Bitters looking as if he was wishing the ground would open up and swallow him (a fair feeling considering how closely he was standing next to Matthews to be honest) and Matthews rocking on the balls of his feet, something seemed...off.

It was probably nothing, but it couldn't hurt to keep an eye out for whatever they (most likely just Bitters) were planning.

"...fine. Let everyone know they'll be doing laps in ten minutes or so."

Matthews gave him another salute. "Ab-so-lutely Sir! You can count on me!"

As the two of them walked off, Grif could have sworn he heard a groan from Bitters. And while it was good to see some things never changed, Grif couldn't help wonder if it was proof of Matthews' claims of the lieutenant being sick. The maybe groan he heard was a tad deeper than he normally heard from Bitters.

**...**

"_What the fuck was that Bitters!?_" Matthews hissed at him over their private com.

"Uh, me being you? Duh."

"I do _not_ sound like that!"

"Overly peppy? Practically falling over yourself to please Captain Grif? Saying 'Sir' every other word? That's you dude."

"Is not! I am _not_ that obnoxious sounding!"

"HEY REEDS!"

"What are you doing?!"

"Proving my point." Bitters muttered before raising his voice to the other solider who looked way too confused at being addressed by 'Matthews' for Bitters' liking. For God's sake, Matthews wasn't _that_ much of a recluse.

"...yeah?"

"Bitters and I are having a little debate and need help resolving it. Impersonate me."

Reeds just stared at them. "You want me to...what?"

"_Impersonate. Me_. God's sake Reeds, pretend you're me, it's not that hard. A fucking Fed could probably do it."

Beside him, Matthews shook slightly as he held back a laugh. How the nerd wasn't more popular in their little squad boggled Bitters' mind sometimes as he actually had a pretty good sense of humor. Ah well, it was their squadron's loss.

"...I uh. Okay. Um...'Oh wow Captain Grif! You're sooooooo amazing! I wish I was half as cool as you! Do you want me to draw you up some battle plans? Steal, I mean fetch food for you? I can do both!' ...do you erm, want me to keep going?"

Bitters snuck a look at Matthews. If they weren't currently wearing helmets, Bitters was ninety percent positive there'd be an extremely pissed off look on his friend's face. Making sure he was on their private channel first, he couldn't resist the urge to rub salt in the wound.

"What do you think Kyle? Should he keep going?"

"Fuck. Off. Antonine."

"Hey, be happy I didn't throw actual money into this thing. You'd be so broke right now."

Switching his external mic back on, Bitters couldn't keep a smug tone from leaking into his voice. "Nope, that'll do it. Thanks a lot Reeds. You were a big help."

"Uh huh...I'm just...going to finish warming up for training. Over there." And without another word, Reeds ran off as far as he could from Matthews and Bitters short of actually leaving the training area. Weirdo.

"...that actually reminds me."

Bitters did _not_ like how suddenly light Matthews' voice just got. Considering how pissed he'd sounded ten seconds ago, the easy going-ness he heard now _did not_ promise anything good.

"You should do some warm ups too. The more the better."

".. the fuck I am."

"Oh yes you are~!" God fucking dammit. Matthews was practically _singing_ with glee now. He only did that when he _knew_ he'd just about won an argument.

"Warming up before training is very important so you don't sprain anything. And well, I just wouldn't be 'me' if I didn't do more than the required amount to make up for being late."

"..."

"Chop Chop Bitters. Time's a-wasting."

"...God I fucking hate you."

Matthews shrugged. "_Your_ idea man."

"I should have just left you to mope to death in our room."

Matthews only reply to that was giving him the finger and walking away.

"Where do you think you're going?! Matthews? Get the fuck back here!"

"I'm just doing what you do during warm ups. Ditching 'me' and moving suuuuuper slow. Better pick up the pace Bitters. I think Captain Grif's heading over."

**...**

Nearly a half an hour later, Bitters was certain he'd made a huge mistake.

Palamo's wounded pride and desserts were sooooo not worth giving a 110% percent towards training.

It wasn't as if Bitters was _out_ of shape or anything. Being in a war and training for it your entire life tended to keep a person relatively fit.

The only exception to that rule being one Captain Grif apparently.

No. What was quickly wearing him out was doing the regular training while ALSO keeping Matthews from being well, Matthews.

To be fair, Matthews was doing a pretty good job at _not_ being his usual kissass self. Mostly.

There had been a few close calls that had required Bitters to 'accidentally' tackle him. Like now for example.

"OW! I wasn't even _jogging_ Bitters what the _fuck_?!"

"My bad. Toootally thought you were there. Would hate it if the whole thing fell apart because Grif accused you, I mean me of suddenly giving a shit about running drills."

"And you running into me every five seconds _**won't!?**_ I do _not_ pay that much attention to you during training!"

"Mmhm. So you _do_ admit you pay attention when I do follow the day's regime huh?"

Matthews shoved him. Actually shoved him.

"That is _not_ what I meant and you know it!" Matthews shrieked.

"Hey!"

"Shit." Both teens said at nearly the same time as they watched their commanding officer march towards them.

"I don't know what you two think you're doing today, but knock it off or so help me, I will actually expend the effort it takes to separate you!"

For whatever reason, Matthews chose that moment to act like himself. The nerd actually had the audacity to _flinch and stiffen his posture_ at Grif's threat.

Bitters was going to _**murder him**_.

"Matthews." Bitters said slowly over their private com. "What. The fuck. Was that?"

"Shit."

"No kidding Sherlock! What were you thinking?! Don't tell me you honestly can't bear the thought of us being separated!"

"Oh for God's sake-Being on opposite sides of the training field would be a god damn blessing! Get over yourself Antoine!" Matthews hissed over the line.

Blitters blinked at that and tried not to acknowledge whatever...feelings...that stirred up. He could do that later, when he didn't have an image to maintain.

"...okay. What was up with you freezing just now?"

"Palamo's heading this way."

"Fuck."

**...**

Grif was no stranger to being ignored. In fact, being ignored had worked out fairly well for him for the bulk of his military career.

This, however was pushing it.

Aside from a weirdass reaction from Bitters earlier, both kids were ignoring him in favor of a private conversation between the two of them. And he only knew _that_ because Matthews was visibly reacting (albight slightly) to whatever Bitters had said.

Suddenly, Matthews turned to face him.

"Looks like Palamo's joining us today, Sir." There was a couple second delay before the 'Sir'. Almost as if Matthews had just tacked on the word last minute. Unsure whether to be concerned or suspicious over that, Grif turned to watch Palamo join his squad for (presumably) the day

Ever since the entirety of Green Team save Palamo died during a mission, Tucker had been shoving the kid off on the other Captains under the guise of 'it's not fair to just train one kid, how can the poor guy learn the value of teamwork if he doesn't have a team?'.

On one hand, Grif was impressed at Tucker's dedication to skipping out on his one job at the rebel base. On the other hand, however, he was getting real tired of being stuck with the kid whenever Tucker wanted to bother Kimball and Felix for the thousandth time.

Simmons may have set up a very strict 'No-Palamo-Is-Not-Allowed-On-My-Team-Ever-Again-Or-I-Swear-To-God-Tucker-I-Will-Run-You-Over-With-A-Fucking-Tank' policy, but _Caboose_ was still an option. Amazingly, unlike Tucker, no one had died on his team. _And_ Caboose liked literally everyone. Grif should not have to watch more kids than he already had to.

Grif sighed; heavily regretting putting on his helmet this morning. Visors had a horrible habit of blocking his fingers from rubbing his face in exasperation over the stupid nonsense that was his life.

"Matthews, go greet Palamo and I dunno, run laps with him."

"Do I have to? Palamo fucking su-"

A hard smack interrupted the rest of the sentence but it was already too late. Grif was staring at them again, suddenly very glad for his helmet. He was 90% sure he'd just lost his usual blank poker face.

Matthews was rubbing the side of his helmet where Bitters had smacked it while (presumably) glaring daggers at the lieutenant. As soon as he realized Grif was staring at him, Matthews' posture instantly straightened.

"I mean...of course Sir! I would love to...do what you just said! Hanging out with Palamo is just...the...greatest...thing ever..."

"...Are you feeling alright Matthews?"

"Never better Sir!"

"...Uh huh. Just. Go greet Palamo already."

Matthews gave him the absolute quickest salute he'd ever seen before booking it towards Green Team's sole member. Grif waited a couple minutes for Matthews to be out of earshot before glancing at Bitters.

"If Matthews shows any more signs of snapping, throw him at Palamo. Maybe then Tucker will quit dumping the kid on me."

Bitters gave him a stiff nod before following after Matthews.

Grif watched him go. Either something most definitely was going on and _both_ kids were in on it or Matthews was a whole lot more capable of a Simmons level breakdown than first thought.

Either way, today was turning out to be more headache inducing than first thought.

**...**

" 'I'd mess this up? _I'd mess this up?!_' Bitters, what the hell was that just now?!"

Bitters flinched slightly at Matthews' near hysterical voice over their private com.

"I uh. Forgot to turn my external mic off."

"...Okaaaay. Why. The fuck. Did you say that in your impersonation of my voice _if you thought no one would be able to hear you_?!"

"...Force of habit?"

"Bitters!"

"You try yo-yoing between voices and not get mixed up!"

Matthews groaned as he ran a hand over his helmet's visor. "Fiiiiiine. Thanks to you, Captain Grif thinks I'm like, three seconds away from 'snapping' and I dunno, murdering Palamo."

Bitters' pace slowed as he mulled that comment over in his head. "That...could be considered a compliment if he thinks you could beat Palamo in a fight."

Matthews snorted. "A well placed _rock_ could take Palamo out."

Bitters gave a small hum of agreement at that. Palamo was utterly useless in a fight; well, anywhere out in the field to be honest. How he'd lasted this long truly had to be one of life's great mysteries.

"...-do about Palamo?"

"...What?"

Matthews sighed. "I said, what are we going to do about Palamo? I mean, don't you think he's going to notice something's up?"

"Nah. Palamo's an idiot. I bet I could speak normally to him and he wouldn't question it in the slightest."

"...You're kidding."

"Nope. I say we continue as planned and _not_ stress over Palamo being here. Heck, if he's tagging in on today's training, we won't have to track him down later to prove you winning the bet since he'll be able to witness it first-hand. Win-Win."

"Mhm. You're being suspiciously optimistic about this."

Bitters shrugged. "As much as it pains me, I know Palamo more than I'd ever willingly want to. Which means, I know for a _fact _we're fine."

"If you say so."

Bitters decided against responding to that as they were within speaking distance with Palamo. Before he could call out to the other lieutenant, Palamo spotted them and quickly closed what little distance had remained between them.

"Heeeey Matthews! I've been thinking about our bet and-"

"You're ready to throw in the towel? Smart." Bitters quickly interrupted. Granted, that wasn't something Matthews would ever do, but the sooner he shut down whatever 'idea' Palamo had about their bet, the better.

Unfortunately, Palamo didn't seem thrown off by 'Matthews' being rude. "Haha no. I was thinking since Bitters threw in another demand if you won, I should add another thing too! To keep it fair, you know? So, after a lot of thought, I decided. I win, in addition to telling Captain Tucker how great he is, you'd join Green Team!"

Matthews and Bitters both stared in silent disbelief at Palomo's, quite frankly, stupid idea.

"...that seems a bit much in exchange for some desserts Palamo."

Green Team's sole member shifted slightly. "Not really...I heard from Jenson who heard from Captain Simmons that some ice cream was recently found and it's supposed to be allotted into our upcoming dessert rations and I'd really like to have some without getting a brain freeze a minute into eating it. Like erm, y'know, last time?"

Bitters blinked behind his visor. Well _fuck_, how was he supposed to talk them out of that if the New Republic really was getting ice cream again?

"Oh. Is that all?"

Bitters snapped his head to stare at Matthews who was actually speaking through his external mic in the absolute worst impression Bitters had ever heard in his life of his own voice _what the fuck?!_

"If we get ice cream, you can keep it."

"Really?"

Matthews shrugged. "Sure. I mean, this'll be what, the second time in _years_ the New Republic gets that treat?"

Palamo was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Aww thanks Bitters! I _knew _you were ni-" he froze, suddenly suspicious, probably finally picking up on Matthews' god awful impersonation of Bitters. "...What's the catch?"

"No catch. Matthews stays on Gold Team and you keep your ice cream ration. Aaaaand, as a show of good faith that I'm _not _tricking you, you can have Matthews' share, regardless of the outcome of the bet."

Bitters stared at his friend, certain that Matthews maybe had just actually lost his mind. "Are you uh _sure_ about that Bitters? That seems a bit much."

"I"m sure. Palamo really missed out last time with as big of a brain freeze he had then. I figure, this time should be better."

"Yeah Matthews. Bitters knows what he's talking about."

Matthews gave a small nod. "I do. Sides, everyone knows it's _impossible_ to get a _second _brain freeze in your lifetime. _Especially _if you double the ice cream intake and eat it faster than the first time you had it. Matthews can back me up on this fact right Matthews?"

Bitters smirked as realization at what Matthews was doing finally hit him. The guy could be downright diabolical when the mood struck him to be. "Oh absolutely Bitters! It's a well documented fact _proven_ by numerous studies!"

'Matthews' confirming his friend's claims seemed to be enough to convince Palamo. Bitters couldn't help thanking whatever God existed that the other lieutenant was such an idiot. It made him annoying as fuck, but it did have its' perks.

Now that their pre-emptive petty revenge had been taken care, Bitters eyed Palamo curiously.

"Why would you even want Ma-_me_ on Green Team anyway?"

Palamo anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh. No reason."

Bitters gave him the flattest, most pointed look he could while wearing a helmet. Palamo, for once in his life, got the hint.

"Fine. I was just trying to rebuild Green Team."

"...Starting with Matthews."

Matthews' impersonation skills were utter garbage but the way he deadpaned that statement so flawlessly gave Bitters some hope that his friend might one day stop giving a shit about every little thing.

Palamo shrugged. "Sorta. I figured he'd be the easiest to convince to join Green Team."

"...You do realize that's never going to happen right?"

"Well, not with _Matthews_ obviously but-"

"No one is going to join a team where ninety percent of its members died during their first and only mission."

Bitters quickly stifled a snort under some fake coughs. "Sorry," he threw in another fake cough at Palamo's suspicious look. "Helmet's been acting up today."

Instead of dropping it and moving on to say a different topic like any normal, rational person would, Palamo, the weirdo, perked up.

"Oh! I can probably fix it! I used to help Rodgers with his helmet all the time!"

Bitters took a step back. "No it's uh fine. I can do it later."

"Don't be stupid. It'll only take me like a minute to figure out."

To Matthews' credit, he didn't just stand around to watch their whole plan fall apart. He put in a valiant effort in trying to hold Palamo back from getting anywhere close to Bitters or at the very least focusing his attention elsewhere.

Unfortunately for both of them, Green Team's lieutenant could be fairly single-minded on things. One minute Matthews had a decent grasp on Palamo's shoulder and was pulling him away and the next, he got a rather painful jab in the gut from one of his captive's elbows.

Taking full advantage of the sudden momentum no longer being held provided, Palamo basically tackled Bitters and took off his helmet.

"God Matthews, was that so ha..." Palamo trailed off as the realization of Bitters being in Matthews' armor and not _Matthews_ settled over him.

Slowly, as if in a daze, Palamo looked between the two Gold Team members.

"...You dirty fucking cheaters."

Bitters gave him a small shrug. "We were just stacking our odds to better our chances."

"That is the literal definition of cheating!"

"It absolutely is not! Matthews, back me up here."

Matthews hesitated just long enough for Palamo to take full advantage of and turn things back in his favor. "Ha! Told you!"

Bitters rolled his eyes. "Whatever. What are you going to do? Consider the bet forfeit?"

"When I'm basically winning? Hahahahaha No. I'm thinking letting your Captain know you two switched places for the day. Can't imagine he'd be too happy with that fact you know? He might even have you guys removed from his team!"

Bitters snorted at that. He highly doubted Grif would even be slightly annoyed at his and Matthews' failed gambit let alone mad enough to kick them off Gold Team. That shit required paperwork, and Grif did _**not**_ do paperwork.

Unfortunately, Matthews, the idiot, fell for Palamo's bluff hook, line, and sinker and panicked. And, as Matthews often did when panicked, he did something stupid. Which, in this case, was 'tackle Palamo with no follow-up plan or thought to possible future consequences'.

Bitters sighed as he moved to pull his dumbass friend out of what was quickly turning into an actual fight. Well, he would have if Palamo didn't punch his _still unhelmeted face_ because SOMEONE thought it'd be a fantastic idea to just toss the thing after stealing it.

Bitters stumbled back rubbing his sore jaw, thankful nothing seemed broken.

The responsible and Matthews-esque thing to do would be to suck it up and go right back in there and break up the fight. But metal on flesh really fucking hurt and honestly, fuck Palamo.

Just as Bitters was really about to get into the fight himself, somebody grabbed him by the back of his armor and pulled him back with enough force that he nearly landed flat on his ass. Bitters just barely managed to get his bearings back in order in time to witness _Captain Grif_ of all people pull Matthews and Palamo apart.

"What. The _fuck_. Is going on here?"

Silence met him. If Bitters had to guess_ why_, it'd be because all three of them were having trouble processing the fact of Grif doing anything remotely solider-y.

Grif sighed as he turned to face Bitters. "Matthews. Tell me what happened."

"Nothing Sir. Just a uh, _small_ disagreement but nothing major. We were actually on our way back to training."

"Training's over."

Whatever retort Bitters thought he could use died on his lips at Grif's nonchalant tone. Surprisingly, _Palamo_ was the first to pull himself together enough to continue the conversation.

"I just got here! Training can't be over already!"

Grif shrugged. "Funny thing. When two lieutenants and _Matthews _of all people start ducking it out in the _middle of the training field_, it turns out _no one_ wants to run laps and would rather watch the fight." Grif's voice hardened. "So again. _What happened_?"

Again, none of them answered him. Grif sighed. "Alright. We'll take this elsewhere then. I am _not_ standing around in the sun in full body armor while you three play the quiet game. Follow me."

Grif led them to the main building on base and the first room with chairs.

"Sit down; helmets off."

Bitters took the seat between Matthews and Palamo. It didn't take a genius to figure out Grif wanted their helmets off so they couldn't talk privately with each other to figure out a plausible story and to make them crack faster.

Honestly though, Bitters wasn't too worried about Matthews. As long as he didn't look at or make direct eye contact with anyone, the guy actually had a pretty decent poker face. Add in the fact of Grif thinking he was Bitters, who wasn't known for sharing anything if he didn't want to share; chances were good he'd be ignored.

Which just left Palamo. Who was probably two minutes away from ruining everything unless Bitters could somehow discreetly knock him out without Grif noticing.

"Uuuuuh Captain Grif Sir?"

Or Palamo could just ruin everything now.

"Yes, Palamo?"

Green Team's lieutenant eyed the members of Gold Team curiously.

"Aren't you going to say anything about Matthews and Bitters wearing each other's armor?"

"...They're what?"

For one glorious moment, there was pure, utter silence. And then, unsurprisingly, Palamo broke it. Laughing so hard Bitters was surprised he didn't fall out of his chair.

"Seriously?" Palamo leaned forward to get a better look at Matthews. "Captain Grif doesn't know what you look like? _My_ Captain does."

Bitters shot a look at Matthews. He was _just_ barely holding his poker face together, but judging by the tenseness of his jaw, he was about one word away from doing something stupid. Again.

Bitters jabbed Palamo in the side hard enough to turn the other teen's snickers into wheezes for air. "Excuse us for not wanting a stray bullet to catch us unaware or did you forget what happened to General Stone?"

"...huh."

Belatedly, Bitters realized he'd just used his regular voice, effectively outing himself and Matthews. He might have been more upset over that if not for the fact of the current rate on how badly things were going, it was going to come out eventually. Better now than Palamo somehow twisting everything later.

Grif's gaze bounced between his two soldiers. "...mind telling my why you two switched armor?"

Before Bitters could even attempt a bullshit excuse, Matthews surprisingly spoke up first.

"It was a bet Sir."

"...a bet."

Matthews nodded. "Yes Sir. Bitters bet I couldn't be lazy and I bet he couldn't keep up with training."

"Uh huh. And that made you trade armor _why_?"

Matthews paused for a second at that. "We...decided that you'd be the best impartial judge and thought if we wore our regular armor, you'd...end our bet before it could even begin?"

Grif nodded like that made sense. "And Palamo?"

Matthews' voice hardened slightly "He was sticking his nose where it didn't belong."

Palamo made to object to that, but Bitters quickly stomped on his foot, amazingly without Grif noticing.

"Huh. Alright. Nice job Matthews. Didn't think you had it in you to be lazy, so color me impressed. Try to apply that to training more. Bitters, I'm disappointed in you man. Thought you'd be better at faking effort. Palamo. Mind your own fucking business next time. I think that covers everything. You're all dismissed or whatever. Do _not_ bother me for the rest of the day."

As soon as Grif was out of the room, Bitters threw a smug look at Palamo, who short of being sick, couldn't possibly look any paler than he did now.

"Did you hear that Palamo? Captain Grif just complimented Matthews _twice_."

Palamo gave him a shaky nod. "I did."

Bitters' voice turned smug. "Which means Matthews won the bet. Hey Matthews! When do you want-_shit_."

While Palamo looked sick from nerves, Matthews was slumped in his chair like he'd just been shot.

Bitters shot the other lieutenant another look. "I'll contact you later over the helmet radio to let you know when you can fulfill your end of the bet." He couldn't resist a smirk. "Enjoy the rest of your day Pal."

Palamo groaned, something Bitters elected to ignore in favor of helping his friend to his feet.

"C'mon Kyle. This is just sad." He muttered low enough that Palamo wouldn't be able to overhear.

"Captain Grif _complimented_ me. Me!"

"Mmhm. He sure did. Good going there buddy."

Matthews' awestruck smile was contagious, it wasn't long before Bitters was wearing a small, genuine smile as well

"...You wanna know what could have made this better? If I could I have recorded him saying that."

"Maybe. But not having a recording makes it more...I dunno, special?"

Matthews' expression softened a little. "Yeah..."

"You know, we could probably record Palamo making a idiot of himself tomorrow in front of Captain Tucker."

Matthews snorted. "We could." An excited look crossed his face. "Hey Antoine. When we get back to our room, want to crack into my Victory Food Stash with me?"

Bitters' grin widened. "Fuck yeah! Don't even have to ask."

**...**

The next morning, Grif took his usual seat by Simmons at the Captain's Table in the mess hall.

He listens juuust long enough to register that Simmons and Tucker are arguing about training stuff before tuning them right the fuck out. It was _way_ too early to be thinking about being a real actual solider in a real actual war and all that entailed in his humble opinion.

Instead. he spent his time scanning the mess hall. Unsurprisingly, it's still fairly empty as most of the rebels are either getting some much needed rest or out doing more soldierly things like patrols or some crap.

He just barely registers Bitters and Matthews leaning against a nearby wall talking to each other before he notices Palamo making his way towards their table.

Grif can't help internally groan. The kid might not be on his team or even be looking to talk to _him_ but usually, just the sight of his lieutenant tends to put Tucker in a bad mood. If Palamo's starting his kiss-up-ery shtick this early, it's going to be a looooong day of listening to Tucker's bitching.

"Uh. Captain Tucker Sir? Can I, uh, talk to you?"

Tucker heaved an overly dramatic sigh. "You already are."

Palamo squirmed slightly, looking (in Grif's slightly confused opinion) as if he was as eager to talk to his Captain as Tucker normally was to him. "...right." The kid took a deep breath, almost as if he was bracing himself. "I. I can no l-longer take relationship advice from you Sir."

"Fucking finally" Simmons muttered beside him as Tucker stared at his lieutenant as if Palamo had suddenly grown a second head. "Not going to-? Who the hell else around here are you going to get dating advice from!?"

Palamo looked ill. "From C-Captain Grif sin-since he gets more a-action in a-a week than you have i-in your entire life."

Simmons choked on his coffee while Tucker gave Grif the biggest look of surly betrayal as if _he'd_ been the one to insult him and not a dumbass kid.

Before Grif could even attempt to deny or defect any more accusations, Palamo was talking again.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! I still want your advice!"

"Then why the _fuck_ did you say that!?"

"I lost a beeeet!" Palamo wailed.

"To who?"

"...Matthews..."

Tucker stared at Palamo. "You lost. A bet. To _Matthews_." Palamo nodded miserably. "_How_? Matthews should be like, the_ easiest_ person to win _anything _against!"

Grif frowned at that, oddly insulted on the kid's behalf. Sure, Matthews was an annoying suck up but he wasn't the worst person on base.

"He uh. He said he could get Captain Grif to compliment him."

Correction. Matthews was the absolute worst person on base because apparently, the kid had perfected the fine art of bullshitting his way past every single one of his emotional defenses.

Resolutely not meeting Tucker or Simmons' twin looks of shock, Grif grabbed his glass of orange juice and started downing it in an attempt to buy himself some time.

Thankfully, he didn't need _much_ time to figure a decent enough-ish comment to get the others to leave him alone. Heck, it might even be good enough to make Tucker actually do his job for at least a day if he was lucky.

With far more nonchalance than he had when he first grabbed it, Grif placed the glass back on the table and gave Tucker his best 'I-couldn't-care-less' look.

"Nothing wrong with a little positive reinforcement here and there. You should try it sometime."

With more ease than he currently felt, Grif got up from the table, grabbed his (mostly) empty tray and disposed of the contents as he left the room; noting that Bitters and Matthews who, no doubt had known exactly what was going to happen earlier were no where to be found. Likely booking it the second Palamo starting crying and taking his (probably) dared comments back.

He was honestly torn.

On one hand, he should probably punish the two of them for making him part of the butt of a joke, even if, Tucker by far had gotten the bigger hit from it. On the other hand though, he couldn't help being mildly impressed.

Matthews had taken a pretty big gamble and somehow managed to come up on top, Via a lot of overcomplicated _work_ no doubt, but still. It was fairly impressive for the little kissup.

Eh.

He could take his time on this. He was a Captain after all and hell. It might be hilarious to watch the two of them worry over a punishment that might never come.

The day was looking to be off to a good start.


End file.
